


Sweet Insecurity

by indevan



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Babysitting, Established Relationship, Family Issues, M/M, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 23:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11497449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indevan/pseuds/indevan
Summary: He didn’t want a kid but Goten had gotten in it in his head so he said nothing and just kissed his eyelids and said that he’d see what he could do





	Sweet Insecurity

They were in this situation because of Goten.  Because of Goten and Trunks’s complete inability to deny his husband anything.  They’d been in bed, curled around each other and resting in the afterglow, when Goten murmured into the curve of his neck, “I want a baby.”  Trunks wasn’t sold on it but he couldn’t outright say that.  He didn’t want to be a parent; he didn’t think he’d be any good at it.  He didn’t exactly have the best role models.  Sure, he knew his parents loved him, but they were both very unconventional in the parenting department.  And that was putting it lightly.  He didn’t want a kid but Goten had gotten in it in his head so he said nothing and just kissed his eyelids and said that he’d see what he could do.

Somehow word had gotten out to everyone else because no one could keep a secret from anyone and his mother insisted they  _ practice _ for their  _ upcoming child _ (as if it would be simple and immediate), which was really just an excuse to get him and Goten to babysit his brother.

Boxer stared at them with his piercing blue eyes and Trunks wondered if  _ he _ had been that unsettling as a baby.  He knew that Bra wasn’t.  She had been one of those babies that everyone stopped to look at in the stroller.  The one complete strangers cooed over.  His grandmother told him once that someone described him as “intense.”  An intense baby.  Boxer certainly was.  The fact that he was the only one of them to inherit their father’s hair didn’t help.

“This will be good practice,” Goten pointed out. “We weren’t even teenagers when Pan and Bra were born.”

“Yeah, yeah.” It was easier to be dismissive than to voice his concerns at his own parenting and at the situation they were in.

He knew from experience that watching a half-Saiyan child was no easy task.  He had had to watch Bra and that had probably taken years off of his life.  He wasn’t sure how his mom had done it with him.

Boxer, for the moment, seemed content to sit in his swing.  Trunks admittedly hadn’t spent too much time with him since he’d been born.  He and Goten had been busy moving into their new house and then he had work at Capsule Corps.  He was heading up the bioengineering department, which was an honor gifted to him solely on his own merits and not at all because of nepotism.  At least, that’s what his mom told everyone.

His brother had been a surprise to everyone, but especially his parents.  His mom hadn’t even thought she could still get pregnant.

Goten wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him from his thoughts.

“It’s only for a few hours.”

“Right.”

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

He mentally cursed at himself.  He  _ knew _ he wouldn’t be able to hide his worries from Goten indefinitely.  They knew each other--always had.  It was part of being in each other’s lives, part of having been one person.  Goten always seemed to know what he was thinking or when he was upset.  Trunks sighed and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“I’m fine.  Just.  Hoping to make it out of this afternoon without any broken bones.”

He laughed and gestured to Boxer, who kicked his chubby legs to gain momentum on his swing.

“Look, he’s just being adorable.  You’re exaggerating.”

“What’s that scar on your leg from again?”

Goten wiggled a bit but didn’t let go of him.

“From trying to get Pan down from a tree.”

“Exactly.”

Boxer looked between them, as if attuned to their conversation.  He stuck one arm out.

“Goh.”

He seemed to be pointing at Goten, which was pretty good.  His mom, Trunks knew, would say that he was going to be a genius just like him and Bra.

“Yes?” Goten asked.

He disengaged himself from Trunks and leaned in, putting both hands on his knees.  Boxer made a distressed sound and tugged at the restraints of his swing.

“You want out?”

“Dah.”

Goten reached forward and unclipped the restraints.  He started pick Boxer up but he floated out of his hands and hovered above them both.

“Uh...babe, why didn’t you tell me Boxer was already flying?”

“Probably because I didn’t know.”

Boxer giggled and grabbed at his feet, doing a somersault in midair.  Trunks reached up and caught him.  Immediately, he tried to wriggle out of his hold but, while he may have lapsed in his training, he was still far stronger than a baby.

“What the hell?” Goten asked, suddenly grumpy. “Pan was, like, six months old.  Bra was, what?  Eight months?  And now Boxer?  I was  _ seven _ when I learned to fly!  Seven!  This is bullshit.”

Trunks smirked. “Now, now.  Language, babe.  There’s little ears present.”

“Oh, you know he hears worse from your parents.”

That was true.  Neither of his parents ever watched their language with them.

“How old were you?” Goten asked.

He shrugged.

“Dunno, but the first time anyone saw me, I was two.  We were out on the balcony and my dad said, ‘do you think Trunks can fly yet?’ and I said ‘I do’ and jumped off.”

Goten pouted and crossed his arms.  Trunks couldn’t help but smirk again before looking down at the still wiggling infant in his arms.

“Hey, Boxer, do you want to make Goten super jealous and turn into a Super Saiyan?  He’s still the youngest one since Bra didn’t manage it until she was nine.”

Boxer giggled at the sound of his voice, clearly barely registering what he said.  Goten made a face but then tucked his head down on Trunks’s shoulder.

“I still think it’s good practice for ours.”

Trunks shifted Boxer in his arms and tried not to let his shoulders hitch up.  He couldn’t put it off, though.  Not indefinitely.

“You know...adoption can take a while,” he said, “We might not wanna count our chickens before they hatch.”

“I wasn’t thinking about adoption,” he said simply.

Goten hummed a little and nuzzled him.  Boxer tugged on Trunks’s collar but he ignored him.  He was confused.  With the type of equipment they both had, they didn’t exactly have a lot of options.  If Goten didn’t want adoption then…?

“So, like, a surrogate?” He quirked a brow. “Good luck finding someone who wants to take alien sperm.”

“Nope.”

Goten reached out a finger, but Boxer ignored him.  He still seemed adamant about getting Trunks’s attention.  Idly, he reached down and let his brother grab hold of his hand but his mind was racing so fast.  What on earth was Goten going on about?

“Um...so what were you thinking?”

“We make a wish on Shenlong to give us a baby.”

“What?!”

Boxer made an irritated sound when his voice kicked up and tugged hard on Trunks’s hand.  He tried to extricate it but the baby held tight.  Goten lifted his head and smiled brightly.

“Yeah.  We get a baby that’s both of ours.”

Trunks couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  He thought Goten wanted to adopt or do surrogacy or something else.  Something that, after having a lengthy discussion, Trunks could maybe get used to.  Nine months or however long they would be on the adoption list would be enough time to convince himself that he wouldn’t be a  _ terrible _ parent.  Maybe.  This was--this was too much.

“Goten, that’s--no.” He shook his head.

“Tun--Tun!” Boxer whined.

Goten frowned.

“What’s ‘no?’”

“I don’t even want a kid!” he blurted out. “Let alone one  _ right this second.” _

“TUN!”

Boxer bore down on Trunks’s hand with his mouth and, while he had no teeth, it still hurt.  He looked down at his glaring face and could guess what he wanted.  It was convenient, too, since it meant he could leave the room and not have this conversation any longer.  He hadn’t meant to jump right to the fact that he didn’t want kids, that he was terrified of fucking it up, but it was out there now.

“Trunks, come back!”

He ignored him and walked towards the kitchen.  The formula his mom made was in the fridge.  When he was born, she had begun developing a formula that would be able to satiate the hunger of a child with Saiyan blood in them.  Over the years, it had come in handy.  He took one of the pre-made bottles from the fridge and corked Boxer’s mouth with the nipple.  He held the end but his brother whipped his hands up and held it up by himself before he started drinking.

“Oh, you don’t need my help anymore, huh?” he asked. “That some kinda milestone?”

The baby, of course, didn’t answer.  Trunks shifted him into a more comfortable position and sank down into a chair at the table.  With one hand mostly free, he lightly stroked Boxer’s stiff, black hair.  He could feel Goten’s ki approaching, could sense him in the doorway, but he didn’t look up.

“You don’t want kids?”

He didn’t look up but he had to answer him.  When they got married, he had made a promise to himself and to Goten.  He couldn’t just freeze him out.

“No...I dunno.” He kept his gaze on Boxer’s unnecessarily concentrated expression as he drank from his bottle. “I just think I’d be terrible at it.”

It was out there now.  His fear of being a bad parent, of fucking up their kid.  He knew he was fucked up.  He still remembered being brought to Capsule Corps parties as a kid and hearing about how he was “Dr. Bulma’s bastard.”  He knew his parents loved him but it was--difficult.  He was born with a craving for attention.  He used to go up to strangers at those same parties and put his hand in theirs, look up, and say, “Did you know me when I was a baby?  Was I a cute baby?”  He had loved Bra right away but he also had been jealous when he first heard that he was no longer going to be an only child.  What if he was jealous of the attention Goten gave any kid they had?  Jealous of his own kid?  It was--he didn’t want to think about it.

“And you think I’m going to be parent of the year?”

This time he did look up.  Goten leaned in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest.  His hair fell in his eyes and he had that sweet, earnest look on his face that Trunks had fallen for all those years ago.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “You’re basically tailor-made to be a good parent.”

Goten was sweet and kind and far more patient than Trunks ever was or could be.  He would be a great dad.

“Ooh, yeah, with what role model?”

He made his way over and plopped into the chair next to him.  He didn’t touch him, though.  He probably guessed that Trunks was still volatile after his blow-up in the living room.

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno.  Like, I get it with my mom and I know why she’s so tightly wound all the time, but my dad...I dunno.  It’s like, what’s there for me to see?  Being late?  Ditching your family?”

He sighed and rushed his fingers through his hair.  Trunks stared at him--he hadn’t thought that Goten had worried about it and yet.  Yet he still wanted to have a magic wish baby?  He got what he meant, at least about his dad.  Goku had even been late to their wedding and everyone had to hear about it at the reception.

“Your parents love you, though.”

Goten snorted. “So do yours.  What’s your point?  I know they love me and I love them, but--I dunno.”

Trunks shrugged and lifted up the edge of the bottle when he noticed that Boxer was getting close to emptying it.

“So why are you in such a baby mode right now?”

“Because I want to start a family with you,” he said simply.

When he put it like that, it sounded so obvious.  He  _ did _ want a family with Goten was the thing.  He was just--worried.  He didn’t know if his own insecurities would rear their ugly heads about a baby, but.  It was more difficult than that.

“Look at you with Boxer.”

This time Goten put his arm around him and squeezed him.  Trunks cocked a brow.

“What do you mean, me with Boxer?”

“You knew when he was hungry.”

He rolled his eyes.  That was his great revelation?

“He’s half-Saiyan.  Odds are good he’s hungry at any given time.”

The bottle ran dry and Trunks carefully took it from his mouth.  He put Boxer over his shoulder.  Goten retracted his arm and watched him as he gently patted his back.

“And look how you’re feeding him,” he continued, “You’ll be fine.”

Boxer let out a burp that was far too loud to come from a baby and Trunks settled him back into his arms.

“Feeding’s whatever.  I meant, like, other stuff.” He frowned. “It’s hard to put into words.”

_ Without sounding like a selfish dick... _

“Try me.”

Goten kissed his temple and he closed his eyes, savoring the touch.  Even if his emotions were pinballing, he loved physical affection.

“Well, I...I dunno.  I’m afraid I’ll get jealous.”

It sounded so juvenile when he said it aloud.  Petty and silly and immature, especially from someone who got his PhD before he turned twenty-three.

“Jealous?”

“I’m high-maintenance.”

Goten laughed.

“So?  I have plenty of love and attention to give you  _ and _ a potential baby.”

Trunks was amazed at his ability to dispel his worries just like that.  A single sentence and he was already feeling better.

“You’re a miracle worker, babe.”

“I try.”

Goten stuck his finger out for Boxer who threw his bottle at him.  He dodged it just in time.  The bottle smacked the wall with an audible crack but neither of them moved to fetch it.  He began to fuss and wriggled in Trunks’s arms in a bid for freedom.

“I don’t think so.”

Boxer made a disgruntled face and tried to fly out of his hands.

“Kid, don’t even.  I wrote the book on this.”

“Dow,” he said very seriously.

Goten leaned in and Trunks felt the pressure of his chin on his shoulder.

“It’s scary how much he looks like your dad,” he remarked. “Especially when he makes that face.”

Trunks nodded.  Other than the color of his eyes, there was no denying that Boxer was a mini-version of his father.  A mini-version of his father that was currently trying to make a bid for escape.

“So you used me to give you a bottle and now you want down?”

“Dow!”

He wriggled in Trunks’s hold and glared daggers at him.

“He is not happy,” Goten observed.  He pressed the side of his head against Trunks’s and he could feel his husband grin.

Trunks shifted his gaze to the side before letting a smirk settled onto his face.

“Hey, you know, Boxer?  After I got married, you got two big brothers.  Why don’t you go see your other one?”

He moved quickly and shoved the fussing infant into Goten’s arms.  He held him at arm’s length for a moment, surprised, but when Boxer tried to make a break for it, he brought him closely, supporting his back and under his diapered butt.

“Oh, come on!”

Trunks rose from his seat and grinned. “You said you wanted practice.”

Goten looked down at the baby who immediately reached up and grabbed a fistful of his hair.

“Aah!  Why is he so strong?”

Trunks picked up the cracked and empty formula bottle and waved it around as proof.

“Babe.”

“Be quiet--I mean, I know  _ why, _ I just don’t--ow!  Ow!  Stop it!”

Boxer giggled and jerked his arm up and down, tugging on Goten’s hair as he did.  Trunks knew he had to break it up.  He carefully pried his fingers off and took him from Goten’s arms.

“Why don’t we change you and then you can go in your swing?”

He pointed up towards the ceiling and glared.

“You can fly when mommy and daddy get home.” He paused. “Or Bra.  Fly for Bra.”

He still seemed put out but didn’t put up much of a fuss when Trunks carried him to his changing table.  Goten trailed after them, rubbing his head where his hair had been pulled.

“So…” he said.

Trunks shrugged as he placed a still wiggling Boxer down on the changing pad.

“Run defense,” he told him.

Goten kept a hand gently on him as Trunks got the box of wipes and a fresh diaper.

“I think we need to work on our insecurities before we bring a baby into it,” he said and he felt proud of himself.  He sounded very mature and together and not at all like he was worried about fucking it up.

“I guess you’re right.” Goten unclipped the bottom of Boxer’s onesie and sighed.

“But.”

Trunks paused and undid the diaper the baby already wore.  He slid it out from under Boxer as he arched his back to try and get off the pad and over the low railing of the changing table.  As he folded it up to shove in his diaper genie, Goten wiped him clean.

“But?” he asked.

“I do want kids eventually,” he finished.

It was true, he realized.  Not wanting kids wasn’t from not...wanting them.  It was from his fear and his insecurities.

“So we’ll get our wish baby?”

_ “I wish _ you’d not call it that but--yeah.  We’ll see if Shenlong can give us a kid.  And, if not, we have other options.”

Goten grinned.

“Alright.  Hey…”

“Hey, what?”

Trunks had Boxer’s ankles in one hand while he tried to slide the fresh diaper under him with the other.

“Think fast.”

He barely had time to jerk his head back as Goten threw the dirty wipe at him.  In his bid to save himself, he made the mistake of letting go of Boxer.  Immediately, he flew up to the ceiling.  Goten blinked up at him and then turned to Trunks.

“Oops.”

He glared at him until Goten dropped his sheepish act.

“I’ll go get him down.”

“Yes, you will.”

**Author's Note:**

> vertigoats.tumblr.com


End file.
